


Happy Birthday, Hermione!

by GMTH



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Birthday Party, F/M, Fluff, Mistaken Identity, Pranks and Practical Jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-04-29
Updated: 2003-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 05:17:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10757499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GMTH/pseuds/GMTH
Summary: Ron and Harry plan a birthday surprise for Hermione.Written before Order of the Phoenix was released, so does not match canon events in that book or beyond.





	Happy Birthday, Hermione!

"C’mon, Harry!" Ron said. "It’ll be a grand joke!"

"I don’t know, Ron," Harry replied uncertainly. "It seems rather… cruel to me." Fred and George had obviously been a bad influence on their younger brother, for him to suggest something like this.

"But it’s Hermione’s birthday!" Ron insisted. "We have to do _something_ to celebrate!"

"What about the party we’ve planned for her? Isn’t that enough?"

Ron snorted. "Hardly." He leaned forward and fixed his friend with an eager expression that made Harry wince. He knew that look. He had seen it often enough to know that once it crossed Ron’s face, very little short of a full-on Death Eater attack would dissuade him from the mischief he had planned. "Look, I need your help with the potion. I can’t do it on my own. Then one of us will drink it and surprise Hermione with a nice little birthday present. She’ll go mental!"

"So will Snape!" Harry countered. "What if Hermione goes to Dumbledore and tells him what happened?"

"Then it’s the perfect way to get back at Snape, too, for being such a miserable git all these years."

"And just how do you propose to get some of Snape’s hair?" Harry continued, remembering Hermione’s disastrous experience the last time they had experimented with Polyjuice potion. 

"Leave that to me," Ron said firmly. He looked far too confident to suit Harry, but if he was so sure he could pull this off, who was Harry to refuse? Besides, Ron was right – it would be the ultimate birthday surprise for their friend, not to mention the high point of their distinguished career as practical jokers. 

"Right then," Harry sighed reluctantly, making his decision. "I’ll help you brew the potion, but you should be the one to drink it. You’ve been sweet on Hermione for years, anyway. You’d enjoy it far more than I would." 

Ron’s face split into a wide grin. "Done! Thanks, Harry. This is going to be a blast!"

*****

"They’re going to WHAT?!" Hermione gasped.

Lavender Brown tilted her head in sympathy. "They’re going to brew some Polyjuice potion, and Ron is going to use it to transform into Professor Snape," she repeated, carefully enunciating every syllable. "Then he’s going to surprise you with a birthday kiss."

Hermione sat back in her chair, hard. "You’re sure about this?" she asked weakly.

"Very sure. I overheard them talking about it in the common room this morning. They’re hoping you’ll get angry enough to go to the Headmaster and try to have Snape sacked." 

_Those idiots_ , Hermione thought angrily. _Haven’t they learned their lesson yet?_ They were still serving detention for kidnapping Mrs Norris and trying to bathe her in shrinking solution. Ever since the demise of Voldemort the year before, Harry and Ron had become quite the pranksters, and nearly everyone in Gryffindor had been the target of their nonsense at one time or another. Except for her. Out of respect for their friendship – or perhaps out of fear of her ire – they had left her strictly alone. But it now appeared her luck had run out, and she too was about to join the long list of their victims.

She stood up and paced over to the window, her mind clicking into high gear. _So they’re expecting me to freak out over a little kiss, are they?_ she thought contemptuously, quickly forming a plan of her own. _Well, two can play at that game._

"Lavender," Hermione said, "don’t tell anyone else anything about this." She turned from the window and smiled slyly at the other girl. "I’ve got a little surprise of my own in mind for those two jokers."

****

The ceiling of the Great Hall reflected a morning sky thick with rain clouds when the owl post arrived, and several birds loaded with parcels bearing birthday gifts from Hermione’s parents swooped in from overhead. She opened the presents – some books, a new sweater and a large tin of homemade fudge – to the appreciative "oohs" and "aahs" of her housemates, then gathered the pile up in her arms and took them back to her room. With a sigh, she grabbed her Charms text and a roll of parchment and headed for the library. Her Charms homework was already finished, but she realized her fellow Gryffindors were expecting her to follow her regular Saturday morning routine of abandoning the common room for a few hours to seek a quiet place to study. Ron and Harry usually tried to dissuade her from doing so in favor of less scholarly pursuits, but this morning they said nothing as she slipped out through the portrait hole. She knew they wanted her gone so they could prepare the common room for the surprise party they had been planning for nearly two weeks.

It was almost impossible to keep a secret for long in Gryffindor Tower. She grinned to herself, knowing the only ones who would be surprised by anything that happened that day would be Harry and Ron themselves. 

Still, she had to admit she was quite nervous at the thought that Ron, disguised as Professor Snape, was going to kiss her before the day was out. Despite her age – _another year older today!_ – she hadn’t had done much kissing. A few quick snogs with Viktor comprised the whole of her experience, and those had done little to stir her emotions. It was a bit unnerving to know her first real kiss with someone she loved – even if only as a friend – would be happening any moment now. 

She stayed in the library for a few hours until she decided she had given them more than enough time to get ready for her party. As she made her way back up toward Gryffindor Tower, a familiar dark shape emerged from the shadows in a secluded area at the top of the stairwell. Her heart quickened at the sight. _Here we go!_

"Good afternoon, Miss Granger," the silky voice drawled as the ersatz Professor Snape stepped up beside her. 

_Who’s he trying to kid?_ Hermione thought derisively. _Even if I didn’t know it was Ron, I’d be able to tell it wasn’t Snape._ The Potions master never ventured this high up into the castle, and besides, Ron hadn’t even attempted to master Snape’s trademark glide of a walk. He positively clumped his way toward her across the flagstones.

"Hello, Professor," she responded warmly, gleefully watching the surprise register on Snape’s face at her welcoming tone. "How lovely to see you."

"Yes, I’m sure," the pale imitation of Snape replied. "I’ve no doubt that it is the highlight of your day." The shadow of a smile crossed his lips as he continued. "In any case, I understand today is your birthday, and there’s something I’ve been wanting to give you for a long time." He moved nearer as he spoke, and she retreated slowly in front of him until her back was against the cold stone wall. He dipped his head so close to hers that her entire view of the world was narrowed to those dark eyes. "A very long time," he whispered, tracing her jawline with the tip of one long finger.

When he reached the point of her chin, he tipped her face upward and brushed his lips lightly against her forehead, then trailed gentle kisses down the length of her nose until he reached her mouth. The lips that had always seemed so cruel and thin when compressed into their customary scowl were suddenly full and moist as they pressed against hers. Her skin tingled where he had touched her, the nerve endings crackling with repressed energy as she leaned into the fiery touch that could only have come from one who truly cared for her. 

The kiss lasted a few moments longer than eternity, and she was breathless by the time he finally pulled back. "Enjoy the rest of your day, Miss Granger," he said quietly, a satisfied smirk on his face

But before he could turn to leave, she grabbed a handful of his robes in her fist. "Is that the best you can do, Professor?" she asked, giggling inwardly at the look of surprise that swept across his face. She clucked her tongue in mock disappointment. "I expected a great deal more from a man of your… experience." Then she entangled her fingers in his hair, bringing their faces together and forcing her mouth against his in a bruising kiss. She felt as well as heard his sharp intake of breath as her lips opened beneath his, and a moment later their tongues were tangled as he crushed her against his chest with strong arms. 

"You surprise me, Miss Granger," he said hoarsely when they finally came up for air. "I never expected this reaction."

"Oh, but surely you’ve noticed I’ve been attracted to you for ever so long, Professor Snape," Hermione replied, drawing the imposter’s head down so he could kiss the sensitive skin at the base of her throat. "I’ve kissed you in my dreams a thousand times."

His eyes widened in astonishment at this proclamation, and she very nearly blew her whole plan by cackling aloud. Their lips met again and Hermione threw herself into her role, molding her body against his and twining one ankle around the base of his calf for leverage as she drew their hips together. Damp heat rose from the stiffness at his mid-section, and she felt her body react to it instinctively, preparing itself for the act that so often followed an embrace of this intensity. 

Really, it was a shame to have to break the kiss, because she was enjoying it thoroughly. If someone had told her a few days ago kissing Ron Weasley would put her into such a highly aroused state, she would have laughed in his face. But the joke had gone on long enough. Ron and Harry would already have enough to talk about for days to come. 

"We should stop," she said, panting shallowly as she twisted her face away. "What if someone walks by?"

He pulled back reluctantly. "Yes, you’re right," he replied, caressing the side of her face tenderly with his palm. "Come to the dungeons tonight, after the dinner hour, and we’ll celebrate your birthday properly."

She nodded wordlessly. 

"Until then," he whispered, and after a final ghostly kiss, he turned and walked away down the corridor, his robes swishing along on the flagstones behind him. 

Hermione smiled as she watched him go. There. Maybe that would show those two idiots a thing or two. They would certainly think twice about tying to pull one over on her again!

****

"SURPRISE!" Dozens of voices created a wall of sound as she stepped through the portrait hole a few moments later.

"Thank you, everyone!" she cried happily as the whole of Gryffindor surged toward her. "It’s so sweet of you to go to all this trouble!" The smile on her face was genuine. Her friends may be insensitive prats at times but they were still her friends, and she loved them all. 

Harry approached her with a wide grin on his face. "Happy birthday, Hermione!" he said, thrusting a wrapped package into her hand. "I hope your day is everything you want it to be."

"Oh, I’m sure it will be," she replied. Then she made a great show of looking around the room. "But, Harry, wherever can Ron be?" she asked archly, her face a mask of innocent inquiry.

"Right here," came Ron’s voice from behind her. 

Hermione froze. She suddenly felt very dizzy, and the room began to whirl around her as her body stiffened with shock. Turning slowly, she saw Ron ducking through the archway that led up to the boy’s dormitory, a large package balanced on one arm. "Sorry I wasn’t here when you came in. I left your present up on my bed and I had to go up and get it."

"You… you couldn’t have… changed back already… it’s supposed to last an hour…" she stammered, the breath rushing painfully from her lungs.

"What are you on about, Hermione?" Ron asked, his brow crinkling in confusion at her uncharacteristic lack of eloquence. 

She swallowed hard as the color drained from her face. "I… I – Lavender told me you were going to use Polyjuice to transform into Snape and kiss me this afternoon!"

Ron grinned sheepishly. "Oh, you heard about that, eh? Well, yeah, we had planned to do that, but as it turned out, I couldn’t get anything of Snape’s to complete the potion. The wards on his chambers are a lot stronger than I thought they would be."

****

Hermione was too humiliated and heart sore to stay at her party for long. Not wanting to spoil all the hard work her friends had done, she tried to put on a brave face and act like she was having a good time, but all she could think about was what a fool she had made of herself. The glass of pumpkin juice Ron gave her tasted like battery acid, and bile rose in her throat when they brought out the cake. She could manage only a bite or two before the rancid taste in her mouth threatened to overflow. After about 45 minutes she couldn’t pretend any longer, and she excused herself to scurry up to her room.

Drawing the curtains on her four poster, she flopped down on the pillow to wallow in her misery. Kissing Snape, of all people! And telling him she had been kissing him in her dreams! It was just too demoralizing. Every time she thought about it, she wanted to die. Why had she told him that preposterous set of lies? And worse yet, he seemed to have some weird idea that he was attracted to her, as well. He was actually expecting her to meet him in the dungeons later!

She couldn’t go. She just couldn’t. 

But oh God, she had to go. She had to explain the whole thing to him, tell him it had all been a joke and they had both been the unfortunate victims. It would be the ultimate degradation, but her sense of fair play would not allow her to shirk the responsibility. 

Besides, if she was going to be honest with herself, she had to admit it was kind of flattering to know the unreachable Professor Snape thought of her that way. Most boys were intimidated by her intelligence, and it wasn’t often that anyone even gave her a second look. But Snape wasn’t a boy – far from it – and being brilliant himself, it was probably that very intelligence that made her attractive to him. What a switch! 

Too bad he was such a cold, mean-tempered pain in the arse. Still, if she were twenty years older, she might have considered it... 

Hermione sat up in bed and drew a roll of parchment into her lap. This was going to be a tricky discussion, and she wanted to make sure she knew exactly what she was going to say ahead of time. It had to be handled in precisely the right manner. 

She bowed her head for a moment, deep in thought, and then began to scratch away madly.

****

She skipped dinner that night. Her stomach was far too queasy with the anticipation of her upcoming conversation with Snape to even consider eating a meal. Instead, she took advantage of the opportunity to sneak out of the common room unnoticed after her housemates left for the Great Hall. This whole situation was difficult enough without trying to explain where she was going if anyone saw her leave.

It was common knowledge among the student body that Dumbledore held an informal teachers’ meeting every Saturday night over the dinner hour in the staff room. This usually resulted in a great deal of noise and merrymaking in the Great Hall, as the House prefects tried in vain to rein in the more rambunctious tendencies of a roomful of teenagers. Hermione decided the conclusion of this meeting would be the best time to catch Snape. She couldn’t possibly face him alone in the dungeons, knowing the way he felt about her, and besides, she didn’t know how he was going to react to what she had to say. He had been a Death Eater, after all, and she felt much safer knowing he could not resort to violence with the whole school seated only a few hundred meters away. 

She hid in the shadows behind the statue at the staff room door and waited for the meeting to end. She was only there for a few minutes when the door opened and professors began emerging one by one. McGonagall. Flitwick. Hooch. Sinistra. Vector. Sprout. Lupin… But where was Snape? It was getting late, and the Great Hall would begin emptying out soon, as well. She was running out of time. 

Peering around the corner, she saw Snape sitting by the fire holding a teacup and saucer in one hand. He was alone. _It’s now or never_ , she thought, and summoning her courage, she ducked into the room. 

Too late, she saw Dumbledore seated directly across from Snape in a chair that had been outside her range of vision from her vantage point in the hallway. She froze in place and was about to slip out again when Dumbledore looked up. "Ah, good evening, Miss Granger," he said genially, a smile on his lips. "Is there something you wanted to see me about?"

"Actually, sir, I wanted to talk to Professor Snape," she replied nervously, shifting from foot to foot as Snape glanced up in surprise. "It’s about our… appointment this evening, Professor," she continued as his face molded into a frown. 

"Our appointment?" he asked sharply, cutting his eyes toward the headmaster. Hermione got the message immediately. Snape obviously didn’t want her to say anything about the nature of their meeting in front of Dumbledore. 

"Yes, Professor. C-could I talk to you alone for a moment?"

Dumbledore got the hint. "We can continue our discussion later, Severus," he said. "You go along with Miss Granger and I’ll sit here and finish my tea. Come back when you are finished."

Snape nodded curtly and placed his cup and saucer on the table next to his chair. He led Hermione into the hallway and they stepped into an empty classroom a few doors away. Closing the door behind him, he said, "Now, Miss Granger, what –"

"Professor, please," she interrupted, thrusting her palms forward to keep him from saying anything further. "Please, just let me say what I have to say before I forget any of it, okay?"

He crossed his arms and regarded her with what passed for an expression of amusement on his face. "I should have guessed you would have rehearsed whatever little speech it is you plan to give. Very well. Proceed."

"Thank you." She took a deep breath. "I just wanted to let you know that what happened between us this afternoon was… a mistake. Some friends were playing a birthday joke on me and I thought one of them had taken some Polyjuice potion and transformed into you and that’s the only reason I kissed you and acted the way I did, honestly." The words came tumbling out of her mouth in a frenzied rush, madly trying to escape as though being chased by a singing manticore. "I would never have done it if I had known it was actually you, sir."

Snape closed his eyes and sighed in disgust. "Let me guess. Messers Potter and Weasley again?" he asked tightly. 

Hermione nodded miserably, looking at the floor. She hadn’t wanted to get her friends into trouble, but it couldn’t be helped. _Serves them right_ , she decided. 

"You should have known, Miss Granger. You don’t really think either one of them is capable of brewing a potion as complicated as Polyjuice, do you?"

She looked up sharply, hot words preparing to flow from her tongue, but checked them at the last minute. It would only serve to make a bad situation worse if she let Snape distract her from her goal. "That’s not the point, sir," she said. 

"Then what precisely is the point, Miss Granger?" Snape demanded acidly.

Hermione hesitated. This was the hardest part. "The point is, I… I know you wanted to…" – she swallowed hard – "sleep with me tonight… and I’m sorry, sir, but I just… can’t." 

The look on Snape’s face did not change, but his dark eyes suddenly grew brighter. _My God,_ she thought wildly. _Is he going to cry_? A pregnant pause passed between them while Snape considered his response, and Hermione grew more and more uncomfortable as the seconds passed.

"I see," he said finally, and to her immense surprise, he dropped his head as if in defeat. "I should have known that a woman such as yourself would never find me… attractive." 

Hermione suddenly felt very protective of the hated Potions master. She imagined he must have suffered all manner of horrible rejections in the past, and had probably never known true love from anyone, perhaps not even from his own parents. His life must have been absolutely awful for him to have turned out the way he did. Her own existence was so comfortable, so filled with friends and family who loved her, that she could not fathom what it must be like to live differently. Her Gryffindor honor felt bruised on his behalf, and she rushed forward and put one hand on his forearm. 

"Oh, no, sir!" she protested, cocking her head so she could look up into his downturned face. "That’s not it at all, honestly! You may not be the most beautiful man around" – she cursed herself inwardly for that unnecessarily harsh bit of honesty – "but you do have kind of a… bad boy thing going on… " _Where the hell did_ that _come from, Granger_? she thought, but pressed on anyway. "And that is usually a big turn on for me, but… well… I always imagined my first time would be with someone I loved, that’s all." She dropped her hand as she felt her face flushing bright pink. This was something she had never even discussed with Harry and Ron. "I was kind of… saving myself for when I get married."

Snape raised his head slowly and he studied her for a long moment, that strange expression still in his eyes. "I understand, Miss Granger," he said finally. "And I respect your choice." He smiled then, one of the few times she had seen an actual smile on his face, and it both electrified and chilled her. "Thank you for letting me down easy," he said simply. 

She returned the smile as relief flooded through her. "You’re welcome, sir," she replied. "And thank you, Professor. Honestly, I took it as a huge compliment." 

Snape straightened to his full height. "You’d best be getting back to your dormitory, Miss Granger," he instructed. "I must return to the Headmaster. He and I have time for a rather more lengthy discussion now that I know my… plans… for the evening have been cancelled."

"Yes sir," she whispered, and turned to leave. But she stopped mid-way to the door and pivoted slowly on her heel. "Professor? Would it be terribly forward of me to ask for one more kiss?" she asked, and the color rose in her cheeks again. 

He paused, considering the request, then slowly shook his head. "No, I don’t think that would be a good idea, Miss Granger," he replied. "I don’t know that I could trust myself to stop at just a kiss."

She nodded, looking at the floor again. Then she marched toward the door and threw it open, walking through it without looking back.

****

The interview had gone better than she expected, and with her heart considerably lighter, Hermione decided to go for a walk around the grounds before returning to the common room. Hagrid was in his garden when she walked by, and she spent an hour or so chatting with him before heading back to Gryffindor Tower.

The common room was uncharacteristically quiet when she got there. Harry and Neville were the only two in sight, and they were sitting together in silence, Harry drumming his fingers on the table top. "Hermione!" he said, jumping to his feet when he saw her. "There you are! Where have you been?" His face was red as a beet.

"I went for a walk," she replied, taking a few steps toward him. "What’s eating you, Harry?" 

She suddenly noticed there was another person in the room, sitting in one of the armchairs in front of the hearth. The figure was facing the fire, and only the very top of a head of dark hair was visible above the high chair back. Harry and Neville glanced at the chair nervously as she approached. 

"Harry, Neville, what’s wrong?" she insisted. 

"That," Harry said, pointing to the chair where a tall, thin man was unfolding himself to his full height. 

It was Snape.

"Professor," she stammered, "wh-what are you doing here?"

"That’s not Snape, Hermione," Harry replied dully. "It’s Ron."

Her head snapped back and forth from Harry to the Snape-ish apparition and back again, as though she were watching the tennis match from hell. "What are you talking about?" she demanded.

"It’s true," Ron replied. "It’s me." And before her stricken eyes, the dark form began to morph, red hair replacing black, aquiline nose melting into a mass of freckles. "It was me all along, even this afternoon."

"What are you talking about?" she said again, panic rising in her throat. "It couldn’t have been you this afternoon! You were here! At the party!"

At this, Neville buried his face in his hands and made a pathetic squeaking sound. "No, Hermione," Harry corrected. "That was Neville. He drank some Polyjuice potion, too."

"I didn’t want to do it!" Neville cried. "They made me do it, Hermione! Please don’t be mad at me!"

Hermione’s knees buckled and she fell back into a chair. "I was going to meet you in the dungeons tonight while Snape was at the staff meeting," Ron explained quickly. "We started feeling pretty badly about the way we ruined your birthday, and I was going to tell you about the whole thing then, before it went any further. And then you didn’t show up and we started to panic…"

"Thank God all you did was go for a walk!" Harry interjected. "We were scared to death you might run into Snape and do something stupid!" 

"Oh yes, well, thank heavens I didn’t do anything stupid!" Hermione raged.

"Too bad you and Mr. Weasley can’t say the same thing, Mr. Potter," came a silky voice from the doorway, and for the second time that day, Hermione felt her blood freeze into rivers of icicles in her veins. 

"H-Hello, Professor," Harry stammered. "I can explain…"

"Oh, I’m sure you can," Snape replied coolly. "And the two of you will have plenty of time to do so, while you and Mr Weasley serve detention with me for the next week. Now if you both would come with me, please, I believe Professor Dumbledore would like to have a word or two with you about the _proper_ use of Polyjuice potion…"


End file.
